To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the inner music the words make... ~Truman Capote

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Unsaid. Unwritten. Unpublished.

So many words left unsaid. Not in my soul or heart, but written for the world to see. The truth is left unsaid. Not always, but occasionally. Sounds mental I know, but it’s deeper than that…

I tend to write about the importance of honesty and love and hope… When in actual reality, what I really feel… the beauty of the almost nonsense that goes through my head, the meaning of who I am and what I truly feel inside, is not just something I can share with the world around me…
Disguised? Maybe. Camouflaged? Perhaps. Left unsaid? Usually.

Only to be set and left on repeat in this heart of mine. This heart that is filled to the brim… This heart that will never stop loving. This heart that creates the many feelings and emotions that create the very words that must simply remain inside... Unsaid. Unwritten. Unpublished. For now atleast…

A lovely day today... Tomorrow may change everything. I'm so ready I can almost taste it. Here's to the future everyone. Sleep is the only thing on my mind right now... So with that, dream sweetly everyone.

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